


Spencer, Interrupted

by orphan_account



Series: Counted [5]
Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Drabble, Epilepsy, Fluff, Lighthearted, M/M, Morgan loves Reid, Seizure, complex partial seizure, epileptic, hotch has a sense of humour for once, new seizure types, seizure disorder
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-14
Updated: 2015-01-14
Packaged: 2018-03-07 13:39:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3175124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spencers stress levels begin to have an effect on his health when he struggles to cope with Gideon's departure while trying to adjust his body to new medication to control his epilepsy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Spencer, Interrupted

"Hey, Spence?" JJ approached Spencer, hovering by his desk with his fingers pressed to his forehead, and thrust the open folder in her hands under his nose. "What language is this? Is it Latin?" She pointed to a print out of a white wall with text painted in blood scrawled across it. 

"It's Italian." Spencer answered immediately. "Notice the grouping of letters and similarities to Latin, but it's not quite the same." He pointed to a section of the text. "...in thy blood I paint thy pain." He translated. 

"That's disgusting." JJ creased her brow. 

"It's not the first time we've seen our unsub use the blood of their victims to leave messages," Spencer pointed out, "Or be poetic."

"Still disgusting." JJ scanned the picture again and then closed the file and handed it to Reid. "Can you go over all the photos, translate all the text?" 

Spencer nodded, "Sure."

"Thanks, Spence." She smiled, touching his arm as she turned to walk away. After a couple of paces, she stopped. "Hey, Spencer, can I ask you something?"

Spencer blinked fast twice and nodded his consent. "Okay." 

She smiled and considered her words. "Are you okay? I mean, with Gideon gone... I know you were close. I just, I wanted to check you're okay?"

Spencer nodded, "Thanks, JJ, but I'm fine. I miss Gideon, sure, but you guys are my family." 

JJ gave a wide smile and felt and emotional lump bob in her throat. "Good." She said and cleared her throat. "Good." As she walked away, Spencer's smile fell. Work was difficult without Gideon - the dynamic didn't fit and Spencer felt out in open water, sans a life jacket.

Shaking it off, he slipped back into his chair and spread the six photographs from the file out on his desk. He scanned each one and picked up the fourth in the line, holding it close as he studied the text. It translated to "crimson flows so beautifully from your soul" and Spencer was fascinated. 

"Crimson." He repeated quietly to himself. "Why not just say red?" He pulled his lips to the side in thought. "And soul, not veins." He set the photo down again. "But...why Italian?"

He sat back in his chair and allowed his feet to rock him slightly from side to side. What was the significance of Italian, and why be overly precise in descriptions? It bothered him that it wasn't simple and obvious, and yet wasn't a complex thing to decipher. He knew the language, the text itself - but the reasons for their use evaded him completely. 

He spun ninety degrees in his chair and faced Derek. "Hey!" He stage whispered. 

Pen in hand, Derek looked up with his brows raised in questioning. "What's up?"

"Come here." Spencer waved him over with a jerk of his head. Derek frowned at him and put down his pen. He stood, sending his chair scooting backward behind him, and crossed the few paces to Spencer's desk. 

"What?" He asked, towering above Spencer, and placed his hand on the back of his chair. 

Spencer leaned back his head, exposing his neck, and looked at Derek upside down. "I have a headache." He said over a yawn and then straightened up. 

"Like aura headache, or...? Derek felt a pang of worry. 

Spencer flattened his mouth, then twisted his lips to the side before relaxing his face."Can we go eat?" 

"Right now?" Derek laughed a little, "Spencer, it's ten am."

"I'm starving." He said, petulant like a child. "The new meds make me need to pee all the time - I have to pee right now and then I feel hungry all the time, like I could eat all day. So please, can we go and eat?"

Derek frowned in confusion at Spencer's behaviour - he sounded hyperactive and unfocused, flitting and unaware. "You're still not feeling good with those?" Derek asked, concerned, and idly began massaging Spencer's neck with his hand. 

Spencer moaned. "I feel drunk." He screwed his eyes closed and sat forwards, resting his elbows on his desk and nursed his head in his hands. His grip slipped and his forehead rocked forwards, just missing hitting the table when Spencer caught himself and jolted upward.

Derek stepped forward, following Spencer's body as he moved. "You okay?"

Spencer shook his head and sat upright, blinking a few times as if clearing foggy vision, his lips squeaking and drawn in as though he were sucking a boiled sweet. Derek kept his hand on his back as Spencer's left hand began to fumble with the cuff buttons on the right arm of his shirt. Derek watched, perplexed: he recognised the activity as a seizure, but considered that he'd never seen these behaviours in Spencer before. 

As soon as it started, the seizure stopped. Spencer sat back in his chair, dazed and unsure, and swallowed a couple of times over dryness in his throat. 

"Alright?" Derek asked. He moved around and sat on Spencer's desk, giving him eye contact. "Back with me? You just had a seizure, a weird one."

Spencer nodded jerkily. "Yeah - m'okay. Umm - JJ said, umm..." 

"Don't worry about JJ for now. Think you're steady now to walk?" Derek checked and Spencer shot him an annoyed look. "I'm just askin'!" He held up his hands in defence. "Come with me, we'll take a break." Derek stood and waited for Spencer to follow his lead. He kept his arm hovering behind Spencer as they walked through the office and out into the corridor. 

"Morgan?" Hitch's voice pitched deep ahead of them along the corridor. "JJ just called me about the second murder; I want to take you with me to the scene, with Prentiss." He jerked his head toward the exit. 

"Right now?" Derek asked, his face a clear picture of annoyance he couldn't hide.

Hotch nodded, brows at an arch. "Or next week, if you'd prefer." He quipped. "Something better planned?" 

"No sir." Spencer spoke up respectfully - still feeling a bit spaced out and not wanting to give Hotchner any cause to medically suspend him from the case - and Derek glared at him.

"Yeah, actually." Derek shot across him. "Spencer's just..." Hotch's eye flicked between the two men and he held out his hands. Derek stopped talking as Spencer tugged his arm, muttering feeble "no's" at him.

Spencer pushed his hands back into his pockets. "It's fine." He said flatly. "Excuse me please; I have to pee." He didn't even look back to Derek as he walked away, heading along the corridor in the search for a bathroom, fresh air and something to line his hungry stomach. 

Hotch smiled unconvincingly at Derek. "Now your date is otherwise engaged, can we get back to work?" As he followed, Derek made a mental note to kick Hotch at some point in the near future as compensation for gaining a sense of humour - perhaps he could do it at the same time as he kicked Spencer.


End file.
